


By The Water

by iwillnotbecaged



Series: Flying high without ever leaving the ground [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel 616
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Religious Content, Sam Wilson is a Gift, and endlessly patient with his brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 20:55:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5680486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillnotbecaged/pseuds/iwillnotbecaged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gideon Weaver was born to Darlene Weaver on June 11, 1963 at the Harlem Hospital Center in New York City. He was his mother’s pride and joy and the only man in her life for the next ten years. She would hold him on her lap and read to him from her Bible and answer all of his questions as best she could. And when she couldn’t answer them, she would look him straight in the eye and tell him, “Never be afraid of questions, Gideon. The truth can always withstand the questions.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	By The Water

**Author's Note:**

> This fic began as a brief exploration into Sam's siblings, but then it took on a life of its own and became the life and times of Gideon Wilson, who has become very near and dear to my heart.
> 
> Many of the details in this fic are the result of extensive googling, so please please please let me know if anything seems off or implausible. 
> 
> Thanks to [Ragazza_Guasto](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ragazza_Guasto) and [pringlesaremydivision](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pringlesaremydivision) for the read throughs, and as always, all my love to the extravaganza squad.

_But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord,_  
_whose confidence is in him._  
_They will be like a tree planted by the water_  
_that sends out its roots by the stream._  
_It does not fear when heat comes;_  
_its leaves are always green._  
_It has no worries in a year of drought_  
_and never fails to bear fruit._

_Jeremiah 17:7-8 (NIV)_

Gideon Weaver was born to Darlene Weaver on June 11, 1963 at the Harlem Hospital Center in New York City. He was his mother’s pride and joy and the only man in her life for the next ten years. She would hold him on her lap and read to him from her Bible and answer all of his questions as best she could. And when she couldn’t answer them, she would look him straight in the eye and tell him, “Never be afraid of questions, Gideon. The truth can always withstand the questions.”

When Gideon Weaver was 12, Darlene married Reverend Paul Wilson. Gideon figured he and Mama had been doing alright on their own, but he liked Paul well enough and didn’t really have any complaints about going from a Weaver to a Wilson. And he did love seeing that smile on her face.

When Gideon Wilson was 13, he received three Christmas presents: a new football, Stevie Wonder’s _Songs in the Key of Life_ , and a baby sister. Sarah Wilson was tiny and loud and Gideon loved her immediately. And not just because he got to see that smile on his mama’s face again. Mama and Paul told him that she was his to look after and protect, and he intended to do just that. Gideon was going to be the best big brother anyone had ever seen.

When Gideon Wilson was 15, his game-winning touchdown run was eclipsed by Samuel Wilson’s introduction to the world. He stood in the doorway of room 314 and watched his mama, with Paul by her side and Sarah on the bed next to her, gaze at Samuel. Gideon wondered for a moment if he had ever put that smile on his mama’s face. Of course he had; he shook himself mentally and joined the rest of his family in the hospital room. Of course his mama smiled at him like that. 

Gideon spent the next three years helping with feedings and diaper changes and entertaining his siblings when he wasn’t otherwise occupied with school and football practice. On Saturdays, he and his mama would take the little ones over to Marcus Garvey Park so that Paul could have some peace and quiet to put the finishing touches on Sunday’s sermon. Gideon would pretend to be the “tickle monster” and chase Sarah and Sam around until they all collapsed on the grass in giggles. The girls at the park thought he was the sweetest big brother they had ever seen and he wasn’t above using that to his advantage. 

Paul was an engaging preacher and the congregation loved him. He encouraged his church members not to abandon the neighborhood; he believed that it was their God-given duty to help the poor and downtrodden of the community rather than fleeing for greener pastures. Few of them listened, but Paul and Darlene were determined to “stay where the good Lord planted ‘em.” Gideon heard his mama say that phrase more times than he could count over the years. 

When Gideon Wilson was 18, he moved out of his mama’s place and headed off to Atlanta to attend Morehouse College. He was hesitant to leave, but Mama assured him that just because the Lord had planted her in Harlem, it didn’t mean that Gideon wasn’t supposed to go somewhere else for a time. God had a path for him and if that path took him to Atlanta, then it took him to Atlanta. 

It was a difficult transition, moving from his tight-knit neighborhood to the Deep South, but he liked the weight of history that settled on his shoulders whenever he walked onto the campus. It’s hard to lose sight of who you are and what you want when you live in a hall named after W.E.B. Du Bois and the chapel where you attend vespers each week has just been renamed in honor of Dr. King. 

When Gideon Wilson was 22, he graduated from Morehouse with honors and followed his father’s footsteps into the ministry. He wanted to head back to New York, but found himself at the Talbot School of Theology in Southern California instead. It was hard to be across the country from his family. Mama sent him letters with pictures of Sarah and Samuel - first days of school and baptisms and piano recitals and school plays. During their rare long-distance phone calls, Gideon would answer all of the questions Sam and Sarah threw at him and swell with pride at how smart and curious they were. 

Gideon loved seminary. Every page turned meant another question that had been itching at the back of his brain was finally answered. He passed the days bent over books in the library until he met a pretty girl named Vera who convinced him to spend a little more time outside in the California sun. Gideon started thinking a little less about the family he left behind in New York and a little more about the family he might create in the future. 

When Gideon Wilson was 29, he and Vera brought their newborn son to spend the Christmas holiday at his mama’s house. They attended the Christmas Eve service at Paul’s church and all the aunties cooed and clucked over what a handsome boy little Jimmy was. Gideon had to fight back tears at one point during the choir’s rendition of the Hallelujah Chorus; oh, how he had missed this. He had a good job at a little church in North Carolina and was able to provide for his family, but it just wasn’t the same as _this_. This was where he heard the Lord’s voice most clearly. This was where he wanted to be planted. This was home. 

They stayed at Mama’s for most of the week after Christmas, but he never felt quite as settled as he had during that moment at the church. Everything seemed to be just a shade off-kilter from what he expected, especially when it came to his siblings. Sarah had just turned 16 and was spending most of her time listening to the _Bodyguard_ soundtrack and talking about some boy named Dorian. 

“Be careful, Sarah,” Gideon warned. “Teenage boys only have one thing on their minds and it’s not the kind of thing that’s honoring to the Lord.” 

Sarah rolled her eyes, half of her attention on Gideon and the other half on an episode of Fresh Prince. “Whatever, Gideon. It’s really not any of your business.” 

Gideon felt a sting in his chest at that, but shoved it down. “I know what boys are like, though. Samuel would tell you the same thing. He’s 14 now; he knows what I’m talking about.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Gideon.” Samuel brushed by him on his way to the couch with a bag of chips. “I spend most of my time thinking about how to convince Ma to buy me a Super Nintendo.” 

“That’ll change when you have a girlfriend one day.” 

“I already have a girlfriend.” Sam popped a chip into his mouth. “Her name’s Leila and she’s awesome.” 

Gideon sighed. “Both you of just need to be careful. The decisions you make now could determine your whole future.” 

“Uh huh,” Sarah said, not even looking at him. “Thanks, Gideon.” Gideon turned and headed back to the kitchen to see if there was any of Mama’s pie left. 

When Gideon Wilson was 31, he got a phone call from Sarah and rushed to his mama’s side. A few days later, Mama asked him if he would speak at the funeral. Gideon loved his father; Paul was the man who helped raise him, who introduced him to his calling, so of course he agreed. But what do you say at the funeral of a man who spent his entire life helping his community, only to be killed trying to break up a drug-fueled street fight? Where is the hope in that story? Where is the encouragement? Where is the grace of God? What could he possibly say that would help anyone in the pews? What could he say to comfort his mama? He came up with something eventually, but he wasn’t sure that it was any good. 

Gideon had enjoyed his time at the little church in North Carolina and he loved the people there, but when he was asked to take over Paul’s church in Harlem, he accepted immediately. He was glad for the opportunity to be close to his mama again and to help her with Sarah and Samuel however he could. But Sarah headed off to college that fall, Samuel was rarely home between school and work and whatever else he got up to, and Gideon had his own little family to take care of. 

He was worried about Samuel, though. He knew that he had ended up dating Leila for a long time, in teenage years anyway, but they had broken up a while ago now and Samuel still didn’t seem interested in any other girls. He said he was just busy with theater, but it seemed odd to Gideon. He hadn’t been able to think of anything but girls at that age. And Samuel seemed, well, kind of...soft. Gideon had seen the consequences of choosing a homosexual lifestyle during his time in Los Angeles, and AIDS was nothing compared to the eternal judgement of God. He hated to think that his own little brother, who he had held in his arms what felt like just a few years ago, might be falling into temptation and away from the truth they had been taught. 

Yes, Gideon decided. There was no question; his father’s church in Harlem was where the Lord was planting him. He would take care of his mother and watch out for Sarah as best he could and try to bring Samuel back into the fold, if he was indeed starting to wander off. 

When Gideon Wilson was 34, his heart broke. Before that July, life was good. He had a beautiful wife and a growing congregation and Harlem was beginning to find its feet again. Jimmy was already beginning to read and they were looking forward to when he would start kindergarten in the fall. Sarah was doing great at NYU and had met a nice man who seemed to treat her right, even if she was loud and opinionated and didn’t seem to want to settle down quite yet. Samuel had decided to join the Air Force to help pay for school, and while he hadn’t been on more than a few dates recently, Gideon figured he wasn’t likely to be heading towards a homosexual lifestyle if he was choosing the military. Life was good. 

And then Mama was killed by a mugger on her way home from a prayer meeting. 

Gideon wanted to fall apart. He wanted to rage at the heavens and curse God. He wanted to find the men responsible and beat them to a bloody pulp. He wanted to scream and cry and pull out his beard and fall to his knees and dress himself in sackcloth and ashes. He wanted to ask question after question after question of the God he thought he knew. 

Gideon Wilson did none of those things. 

He arranged the funeral. He put his mama’s affairs in order. He watched his wife accept casserole dishes from neighbors. He held the hands of the old women in his congregation while they cried. He helped Samuel box up Mama’s things for donation. He held his son. He told his son that Mama was in heaven with the angels and they would see her again. 

He did not rage. He did not cry. He did not question. 

Gideon Wilson had responsibilities. 

When Gideon Wilson was 40, Samuel left for his first tour in Afghanistan. Gideon preached every Sunday and prayed for Samuel every morning. 

When Gideon Wilson was 44, he welcomed his nephew Jody into the world. Gideon preached every Sunday and prayed for Jody every morning. 

When Gideon Wilson was 46, Samuel came home a broken man. Gideon offered him a room and a listening ear, but he chose to stay with Sarah. They had always been closer. Gideon preached every Sunday and prayed for Samuel every morning. 

When Gideon Wilson was 47, he and Vera sent their only son off to college. Gideon preached every Sunday and prayed for Jimmy every morning. 

When Gideon Wilson was one week away from 48, a giant green monster tore through his neighborhood and less than a year later aliens filled the sky. Gideon preached every Sunday and prayed for New York every morning. 

When Gideon Wilson was 49, Samuel got a job as a peer specialist at the VA and left New York for the relative safety of Washington, D.C. Gideon preached every Sunday and prayed for Samuel every morning. 

When Gideon Wilson was 50, he turned on the news and saw a man who looked a lot like his brother fly towards the helicarriers and fight alongside Captain America. Gideon preached every Sunday and prayed for his country every morning. 

When Gideon Wilson was 53, his brother returned to New York with two of his friends in tow. Once they were settled, Samuel invited Gideon to the housewarming party on the roof of his new place in Brooklyn. 

"You too good for Harlem now or something?” 

“Never,” Samuel said. “Steve and Bucky needed something a bit more familiar, that’s all. After Afghanistan, Brooklyn doesn’t seem all that far from home.” 

Gideon scanned the rooftop, taking in the various people his family was now connected to. Sarah was talking animatedly with Natasha, which was probably a dangerous combination. Jody and T’Challa were playing with Clint’s dog, Lucky, while Clint seemed to be trying to discover exactly how many pizza slices he could eat at one time. James Rhodes and Vera looked like they were desperately trying to talk Tony Stark out of something. 

His eyes were drawn to the two men having a whispered conversation in one corner of the roof. Captain America and Bucky Barnes. He watched as the Captain pulled Bucky in close and kissed the top of his head. Well, they were close friends from a different time. Then Bucky tilted his face up and the Captain kissed him on the mouth. And kept kissing him. 

“Quit staring,” Samuel said, handing him a soda. 

“Did you know about that?” Samuel gave him a strange look and nodded slowly. “And you’re not uncomfortable living with them?” 

When Samuel spoke his voice was calm, but there was something guarded behind his eyes. “I’m not just living with them, Gideon. I’m with them. Romantically.” 

"But that would mean— you can’t— were you and Riley— are you a homosexual, Samuel?” Gideon glanced around to make sure no one had overheard. “What would Mama and Dad say?” 

Samuel sighed and sat down on one of the nearby lawn chairs. He took a swig of his beer and gestured for Gideon to sit in the other. “First of all, I go by Sam, not Samuel. I have for a long time now. Second of all, my sexuality, and anyone else’s sexuality, is not actually any of your business. Now you’re my brother and I love you, so I’m going to try to explain this to you. But to do that, I need you to listen and not argue with me. You think you can handle that?” 

Gideon nodded. 

“Good. Alright. Well, I’m not homosexual. I’m actually asexual, which means I don’t experience sexual attraction to anyone, no matter what. I do, however, enjoy romantic relationships with lots of different types of people. I am currently enjoying a romantic relationship with both Steve and Bucky.” Gideon started to open his mouth, but Samuel silenced him with a look. “Any other details about our relationship are none of your business, so don’t ask. 

“As for what Ma and Dad would say, they knew. Well, not about Bucky and Steve obviously, but about me. I had a lot of questions during my teenage years and they helped me find the answers to some of them and to be okay with not having the answer to others. Ma always said not to be afraid of questions.” 

“I forgot about that.” 

“Well, if I recall, she always said that you liked the one about being planted a lot more. I always felt like knowing that kinda helped me understand you a little bit more.” 

Gideon looked down at his hands. “I’ve been a lot more about answers than questions for a long time, Sam.” He looked back up at his brother. “It may take me awhile to understand where you’re coming from. I may never understand as much as you want me to.” 

“I know.” Sam reached out and placed his hand on Gideon’s shoulder. “But at least now we’re being real with each other. Enough of this serious shit - how about we go see how badly I can kick your ass at darts?” 

Gideon threw his head back and laughed. “Oh little brother, you’ve still got a lot to learn.” 

When Gideon Wilson was 53, he preached at his father’s church every Sunday and prayed every morning. He prayed for Jimmy and Vera, for Jody and Sarah. He prayed for Steve and Bucky, for his city and his country. He prayed for Sam. And then he prayed that the Lord would give him the strength to ask questions. 


End file.
